


colors blend, they're all black and white

by ditty (Triple_A)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: /vito voice/ look how i've massacred these boys, :(, Angst, Gavin Reed Whump, Hurt No Comfort, I didn't cry while writing this but other people did, M/M, Whump, just me sipping lacroix with shades on, there's no explanation for the hows or whys in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-23 23:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20897798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triple_A/pseuds/ditty
Summary: ALL SYSTEMS. . .OKSTATUS: READY"Do your duty, RK900."





	colors blend, they're all black and white

**Author's Note:**

> :(
> 
> (title from lyrics of grave digger by matt maeson)

.** . .**

**MODEL RK900**

**SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 87**

**BIOS 9.1 REVISION 86**

**REBOOT. . .**

**LOADING OS. . .**

** INITIALIZING AI ENGINE. . .OK**

**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION**

** CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS. . .OK**

** INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS. . .OK**

**MEMORY STATUS**

** ALL SYSTEMS. . .OK**

_ ** STATUS: READY ** _

_"Do your duty, RK900."_

**. . .**

RK900 opens its eyes.

It's dark, the time is 4:41 AM, October eighth, 2046. Current temperature is 41 degrees Fahrenheit. A downward wind from the West at 36 mph, though that fact is negligible due to the current location. An abandoned warehouse on Meyers Road, the corrugated roof rusting and full of holes, streaming a weak light from streetlights. It is too dark to make out much color, everything awash in black and grays, sans the dim blink of his LED. Blue and barely noticeable at the edge of his peripheral.

...Where am I, _Nines wonders._  
_ There's a bright, harsh snow around him,_  
_ white powder being lashed across a crusted_  
_ icy surface. Black trees twist to a gray sky like claws.  
_

It analyzes itself, and notes that it is not in standard uniform. No white-issue jacket. No illuminated blue arm band. Not even its black shirt is what it was meant to go out in, some black (**cotton, wool, polyester-**) turtleneck sweater with the sleeves plastered to its wrists by some liquid. A quick touch with bare fingers reveals the substance to be blood.

**<DNA ANALYSIS: GAVIN REED>**

**<SAMPLE DATE: RECENT>**

_"Gavin...Gavin?" Nines asks aloud. It's so_  
_ dark here, the only light given by the pale gray_  
glow _of the snow, dim pinpricks of blue from an_  
_ arrangement of flat stones, and the flicker of his_  
_ own blinking LED, frantic and confused._

_He's not supposed to be here._

RK900 distinctly wonders why it is here. There is a gap in its memory-a hindrance-and its UI is bare of any mission, any assignment it can follow. It cannot draw a conclusion as to what it is supposed to do, so it looks around.

There is a gun in its waistband. Standard issue police model,_ Smith & Wesson M&P Subcompact_, no safety. It is registered under a name it does not recognize (**NINES REED**) and the magazine is almost empty. Only two bullets remains. Then it looks up and sees the warehouse, and someone crumpled against a wall in front of him with faint, barely-distinct breathing, and comes to a conclusion.

"_No," Nines whispers, suddenly realizing._  
_"No, no, no! Don't touch him!"_  
_ He sprints through the garden (no, not just_  
_ a garden, _the_ Garden, devoid of life),_  
_skidding on the ice. It's windy, it's too damn windy,_  
_knife-sharp shards and powder fine snow  
whipping across his face, stinging, blinding._

RK900 approaches. The man stirs, shifts, and looks up.

**<REED, GAVIN.>**

**<HEIGHT: 5' 9">**

**<WEIGHT: 176 lbs>**

**<OCCUPATION: DETECTIVE>**

**<CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE>**

**<RELATIONSHIP: N0NE>**

Gavin Reed glares up at it with blood on his mouth. Judging by the way he is hunched, RK900 guesses he has several broken ribs. A bruise swells his left eye shut. One of his arms is twisted awkwardly at his side, the slick-shine of blood webbing his palm. "What? Come to finish the job?" He spits. RK900 stares down impassively. 

_"Stop! Stop it!" He screams as he runs. _  
_He's not really freezing, not really cold_  
_ (he'd need a body to feel cold) but there'd always been_  
_ something wrong with this place, something wrong_  
_ with what it does to him. He can feel thirium freezing_  
_ in his joints, cracking and piercing_  
_ and hurting. "Stop!"_

"Well? Fucking _say something_!" Gavin snarls, though for all his anger, RK900 can read the high pitch of fear in his voice. Despite the sluggish blood that pools around him, his heart rate spikes. He is afraid. "You fucking plastic! Tin can! Asshole!"

RK900 tilts its head. With a single smooth motion, it reaches for the gun which does not belong to it (and dimly notes how it fits in its palm, perfectly) and draws it. Gavin follows the movement with a wary eye.

_He needs to find-the exit, that's right, emergency exit._  
_Kamski had made it. Connor had used it. A stone pillar,_  
_ blue handprint, somewhere at the edge of the Garden._  
_ Nines remembered seeing it once before the ice,_  
_ glowing and distinct in his memory. _

_But where was it? Where the fuck was it??_

"Nines," And now Gavin whines, the bravado cracking around him. "Don't do this. Please."

_Nines trips again at the distant sound of his name, _  
_sprawling on the hard ice. Everything was wrong_  
_ here, every component non-existent __yet working so fast,_  
_too fast. He can hardly keep his limbs from shaking_  
_ as he shoves himself onto elbows again,_  
_ searching wild-eyed for the blue glow of the exit._  
_ Kamski's exit. Connor's exit._

"Nines, baby, please." His voice is growing dimmer, he is weakening with every unnecessary movement. His useless arm jerks, a faint glint thrown off the single ring on one of his bent and broken fingers, and he bites back a harsh groan. "Please, don't do this."

It hardly needs to do anything, really. It could stand and simply watch, but it is not designed for that. It is meant to be dynamic. It is meant to maximize efficiency. It is meant to _do._

_"Amanda, Amanda, please! Please, can you hear me?!" _  
_He can't sob, his vocal units don't work like that anymore,_  
_ and the desperate sound is swallowed by the wind.  
"Please! __Don't do this!"_

RK900 raises the gun slowly, testing it. It moves like another limb, perfectly, poignant, sliding against the ring on RK900's finger like a fitted gear, and with a simple, balanced motion RK900 aims down the barrel. Gavin twitches again, and RK900 can see a thin trickle of fluid begin to drip from his one undamaged eye. "Please."

_"PLEASE!" Nines screams again, covering his ears__,_  
__trying to apply enough pressure to break__  
his own chassis _were he still physical.  
As if damaging himself here could stop this.  
_ _"Please, no, stop!"_

_He bumps into something, nearly tripping over it  
in his desperate run. Groping it, blunt fingernails_  
_blindly scraping at the stone, finding the grooves_  
_ beneath a layer of ice, desperately_  
_ shoving his hand against it-_

_Only to find it cold and unlit beneath his palm._

RK900 pauses for an instant. Gavin Reed looks up again.

_"**GAVIN!**" _

(He mouths something, and RK900 frowns.)

it pulls the trigger-

And thinks how irrational it is, to proclaim love for one's killer, before a harsh scream rips out -his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> there are two bullets, guess where the other one is,,
> 
> still in the magazine bc rk900 missed and nines took over at the last minute to save gavin's life and also crawl out of the computer grunge style to beat the shit outta me
> 
> there's no explanation for this i just got bored and sad while trying to find my calculator and i didn't feel like studying for a math exam (even tho the exam is tomorrow oops) anyways are my rights to play in the sandbox revoked yet


End file.
